


Apple Pie Life

by fathercrowleys



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood, Explicit Language, F/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-06-06 17:00:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6762484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fathercrowleys/pseuds/fathercrowleys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You and Dean have been hunting together for a few years now, trying to maintain a stable and healthy relationship. One day after almost losing him to the Mark of Cain (again!) and feeling like your relationship is at a standstill, you ask what would be wrong with having a normal life together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Apple Pie Life

**MAY 23RD, 2014—**

Th-thump! Th-thump! Th-thump! The only sound even remotely audible to you was the sound of your own heart speeding like a race horse while your legs sluggishly ran toward him. He fell to his knees on the ground, completely covered in blood—oh there was so much blood. Your cries echoed throughout the field as you slowly came closer to his stilled body. His back was to you and there was no way of telling if he was alright; all you saw was the massacre that lay before him in the open pasture. The dark night sky that cast overhead seemed to grow darker and you could only assume it had to do with the mark and its treacherous tendencies. Trying to ignore the effects on the atmosphere because of what Dean Winchester had done to the many, many demons around him, you continued to run toward him.

“Dean!” you screamed at the top of your lungs, getting closer to his figure kneeling on the ground. You repeated the name over and over again with salty streaming droplets flowing down your face. “Dean! Baby! Are you okay!?” Your voice was frantic at the sight of him. He seemed to stare into a deep dark abyss of nothingness as he rested upon the earth with the Mark of Cain on his arm and The First Blade in his hand. The blade shook terribly, your eyes averting from the trembling weapon to his blood stained face. He didn’t speak and that concerned you quite a bit.

“Y/N! Get back! Get away from him!” a deep, husky voice called out from across the grass that sounded familiar and you knew right away it was Dean’s little brother, Sam. You blatantly disobeyed his strong demands and continued to drop and kneel beside your boyfriend. His hand still wobbled with the blade inside of it, deep crimson liquid dripping off of the entire blade. The scene around you told everything—Dean was succumbing to the Mark of Cain once more and as far as Sam and yourself knew, there was nothing that you could do about it.

“Dean... Baby... Drop the blade. Please. Do it for me,” your tone was very soft and calm even though you were quite terrified of the man he’d become when the blade was in his presence. Suddenly Dean’s blank stare into the calm air broke to gaze over at you with visions of blood lust dancing in his head. Most would have been petrified, but not you; you knew who Dean Winchester was regardless of the mark and you knew he’d never hurt you.

Before you could say another word to Dean, Sam was pulling you away from him. The younger Winchester's hands were so strong; so rough and firm that you couldn't fight it in the state you were in. Right now you'd be lucky to make it back to your feet by yourself, let alone fight off Sam Winchester. However, Sam pulling you away from Dean caused a certain spark of anger inside; you bottled it instead of letting go like you knew you should have.

"Sammy, let go of me!" you shouted, seething with a painful rage. He wasted no time getting you to the impala. You didn't need to see Dean this way, as far as he was concerned. You didn't need to see the man you loved as a homicidal maniac. Sam couldn't bare the guilt of letting you believe he was some sort of monster; the monster the mark and blade made him. You slammed your fists on the seat before you—as you were sitting in the back of the impala—while Sam ran to Dean’s aid. 

The scene before you was a gruesome one, but Sam managed to calm his elder brother long enough to get him to hand over the blade. Sam gladly took the blade from Dean, extending a hand to his brother to help him up off the ground. Their lips moved and you thought you could make out Sam telling Dean they needed to get him home and get him cleaned up. The boys headed back to the impala, but Dean was visibly still trembling a bit from the ‘excitement’ that had just ensued. The driver side door opened to allow Sam to climb in and start up the car while Dean opened his as well and sat down on the seat, not once looking back at you as the vehicle sped off toward the motel.

**LATER THAT NIGHT—**

You were a wreck; a complete and utter emotional wreck. What if Dean had gotten hurt in his murderous rampage on those demons in that lonely field? What if you and Sam hadn’t arrived in time and the demons were quicker or there were more of them than Dean could have handled? The different scenarios played vividly in your mind while you sat on the bed that you and Dean shared in the motel room. Sam sat on his bed with his laptop to research further on how to removed the mark, per usual as of late, and Dean was in the bathroom taking a shower. You couldn’t get the scene out of your head of him on his knees with the look in his eyes that said, “I could kill you right now if I wanted to.” You knew he wouldn’t, but the fact remained the same that he could have. The water in the bathroom shut off and Sam looked up from his laptop over at you, almost seeking some sort of reaction.

“Sam... Can you give us a bit? Go get some food. Grab a beer. Find a nice girl. Just give us some time, please,” you pleaded softly with him. Sam nodded without a moment of hesitation. He closed his laptop gently and placed it carefully into his bag. The younger of the two Winchester boys grabbed his jacket and his bag, heading out with the keys to the impala. With that, all you had to do was wait for Dean to come out of the bathroom. You waited and waited, feeling like it would never come. Finally Dean emerged in a pair of boxers and a t-shirt.

“Where’s Sammy?” he asked, much calmer than you expected him to be. “Let me guess... In typical Y/N fashion, you asked him to leave so we could talk?” There was a slight eye roll from the six foot tall man as he sighed with a grunt of discontent and walked toward the mini-bar. You felt as though you’d been punched right in the throat. All your worries, and for what? For him to treat you like trash?

“Dean... I did ask him to leave. You and I really need to talk. You killed a dozen plus demons tonight in less than two minutes and then looked at me like you wanted me to be next. What do you expect? The mark... it’s taking hold of you and it’s turning you into something I never expected,” you expressed your feelings, your words holding truth and honesty only.

Dean opened the mini-bar, eyes dancing across the labels of the various alcohols. He finally just grabbed a plain old fashioned beer and popped the top off with his tee. Turning to look at you once you finished talking, the male gave a nose scrunch and rubbed his temple.

“Stop! Just stop. You think I don’t know what the damn mark is doing to me? I know what it’s doing to me, but there’s not a whole lot we can do, now is there?” his tone was a bit gruff with some sarcasm and a lot of annoyance with you.

“I want you to realize what a douche bag this thing is making you become. I want you to realize that there actually is a way out of this. Cain found a way to help himself, didn’t he? He lead a normal life. He moved off the grid and raised bees for fucks sake!” standing up slowly from the bed, your eyes tried to meet his, but he wouldn’t look at you; he knew what he’d done in that pasture.

“I don’t know what you want from me...” Dean’s usually low and raspy voice turned to one that was soft, almost apologetic. You knew what you wanted and you knew that it would be the best idea for him as well. Unfortunately, getting a hunter who’d spent nearly 30 years on the road hunting with his family to settle down wouldn’t be the easiest thing in the world to do, and you knew that as well.

“I just want a nice, easy life. What’s wrong with that?” you asked, almost pleading with your words and big, beautiful eyes for him to realize your vision and see it too. “You and I could settle down and have a life, Dean. We could make this work! We—we could have a good life...”

He chuckled, lifting his bottle of beer to his lips, tilting his head back to allow the smooth liquid to run down his throat, burning the entire way down; damn it felt good. You made sense and you knew that you made sense, but Dean hadn’t been thinking clearly at all lately. As a matter of fact, a handful of irrational and downright stupid decisions had been made on cases lately because of Dean, but he was your one true love and you couldn’t stand to fight with him on every single detail of your lives. Neither could Sam, quite honestly.

“Do you want me to bust out a list, Y/N? Because there’s a whole lot wrong with that. Namely, oh, I don’t know, I’m freakin’ murderous psychopath according to you and Sam these days!? This ain’t a freakin’ apple pie and white picket fence life we live, toots!” he shouted at you for the first time ever in your long, long relationship. Your eyes immediately grew wide and swelled with tears at how extremely loud his tone was. Your relationship, albeit wasn’t perfect, was never to the point where you couldn’t breathe because you knew he was angry with you. 

You inched closer to him, a little bit of rage inside of you wanting to unleash on him, but you knew this situation didn’t call for anger on your part; at least not the kind that you needed to let loose on him. Stepping closer, finally you were standing right before him, prodding a finger into his toned chest.

“Fine... Keep going out there—not trying to help yourself—and when you get hurt, don’t come crying to me. Do you understand me? I have done nothing but love you and want to keep you safe and you treat me like that’s some sort of crime against humanity. Y’know, to want my boyfriend, the man I love, to stay safe,” a small hiccuping sob left your lips while a few tears streamed down your face. “I’m out. I’m done with this. I can’t take it anymore, Dean!”

Dean stared at you and it was like he’d been hit by a Mack truck going full speed. Needless to say, he wasn’t expecting you to react that way, or say the things that you said. Though, you could see in his eyes that there was a sudden realization within him. It wasn’t clear whether it was a good thing or a bad thing, but he realized something. The male took hold of your wrist, turning it over, cranking a bit in a way that hurt quite a bit, but you said nothing about it.

“Go! Take Sam and Baby and just go! I’ve never needed you before and I sure as hell don’t need you now!” he spit venomous words at you with a fire inside of him. The mark was taking hold again and before he could do any damage, you let tears silently stream down your face while you jerked your wrist away from him. There was a slight ache to the tender area, but you’d had enough of this; this wasn’t the Dean you knew and loved.

You grabbed your jacket, slipping into it before you slid your cell phone into your jeans pocket. Your eyes diverted from even thinking of looking at the man you loved so near and dearly. Tears rolled down your cheeks, one at a time while you grabbed a few miscellaneous things around the room. Putting them inside of your duffel bag, you zipped it and then took a breath, dropping your head slightly while you headed toward the motel room door. Part of you thought that maybe, just maybe any shred of human decency inside of Dean that loved you would let him reach out and grab you, to pull you back to him and tell you he was sorry—but you were wrong.

You exited the motel room, closing the door softly behind you. Hard, cold drops rained down from the sky as soon as you stepped out of the room. Your clothes became immediately too wet to salvage and a loud, ugly exasperated sobbing through parted lips into almost hyperventilation. As you trudged toward the impala, you saw that Sam was sitting in the driver’s seat, starting up the engine as soon as he saw you as well. He quickly popped the passenger door open for you, allowing you to climb in, soaking wet from the rain.

“Hey, what’s going on? Are you okay?” he could clearly see your mascara running and not just from the rain, his concerned brotherly voice setting in as you shook your head with a sniffle and multiple tears.

“No... I’m not. Now drive,” there was a certain level of apathy in your voice as you demanded that the younger Winchester drive away from this God forsaken place. Sam wouldn’t argue, at least not right now. Right now you were visibly upset and there was not talking to you about this; you were too stubborn. Peering up at the window from the room you just exited, you saw Dean peeking out from behind the curtains and you swallowed hard, knowing that who you saw behind the window was not the man you were in love with. He wasn’t the man who was valued and more important than anything and clearly, from the way that he’d spoken inside of the room, you weren’t too terribly important to him either.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m so excited about this, tbh. Like, you have no idea. This idea started out completely different than how it ended up, but in a good way, of course. I really am kind of curious to see if anyone would be interested in a second chapter. I know this is a oneshot for a challenge, but I feel like it doesn’t end here. Like it can’t end here. If no one shows interest, it will end here, but if there’s a good amount of interest, I’ll write another piece. :)


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